For hours the figure lay motionless in the brush, the eyes of a starved predator intently watching the path before it. As the minutes turned into hours, the lust for blood had dampened considerably. No longer did the stomach knot up with nervousness for, like a fisherman whose luck has ran out, the thought that maybe no one would pass by today was becoming more and more likely.
When the sound first found the ears of the predator, it was initially dismissed as a mere product of the environment, for such a forest had many sources of noise. But it continued. A soft hum rang out. It grew steadier and more pronounced as the creature crept closer. An eerie sound lifted up forgotten lyrics as its small wings batted the air to the beat of its frail, yet commanding voice. It was almost haunting, for the predator knew what was to become of the prey. This would be its swan song. The once sore and weary bones began to pump with the rush of adrenaline. Death was near.
The Blood Lord would have His company, this eve.
The dark figure allowed the fairy to float on past, making certain that it had no other stalkers on this night. Once satisfied, the fairy's fate was sealed. The shadow rose from the brush silently, its longer legs quickly closing the distance between them. The fairy continued to sing. Two hands reached up, grasping for its wings before slamming it down towards the ground. A silent, breathy laugh followed the brief scuffle.
The Master would be pleased.
((closed))
Hunger
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Lord Arcia
- Posts: 912
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Re: Hunger
The fairy had never known fear or pain, aside from the intense feeling of boredom that often plagued him. He would flutter through the woods singing and looking for strawberries, little did he know that the hunger he felt was very different than the predator. He could easily fly faster than most could run and outpace any beast he encountered in the wilds of Gobaith, but he didn't fear them.
This gave the fairy a sense of security. But dark things have a way of letting their prey feel safe. His complacency would lead to his demise this night.
The shadow came from behind as the fairy sang on in anticipation for the sweet strawberries and grabbed his wings. The fairy's face paled. Even before being thrown to the ground he could feel himself falling. He squeaked in protest as he was forced to the forest floor but the voice of a fairy does not travel far, even when in duress. His bright pink and green wings crumpled. The shadows laughed at him silently, his breath pierced the fairy as much as any knife.
He had never known fear, but now it was realized.
This gave the fairy a sense of security. But dark things have a way of letting their prey feel safe. His complacency would lead to his demise this night.
The shadow came from behind as the fairy sang on in anticipation for the sweet strawberries and grabbed his wings. The fairy's face paled. Even before being thrown to the ground he could feel himself falling. He squeaked in protest as he was forced to the forest floor but the voice of a fairy does not travel far, even when in duress. His bright pink and green wings crumpled. The shadows laughed at him silently, his breath pierced the fairy as much as any knife.
He had never known fear, but now it was realized.
Re: Hunger
Shadows.
Something every one shared in common. No matter your size, shape, or race you had a shadow. However, some were able to become one with the shadows. A true figure of the night, a physical shadow of soul and flesh. To the frail and dazed fairy, his world was full of such things that go bump in the night. The faint light that shone behind him did little to pull back the veil of darkness so that he might place a face to his enemies.
His small hands were braced against the ground by ropes attached to stakes, and his wings were folded back against himself causing quite a discomfort. A figure ripped free from the others, moving towards him quickly. A sharp, glistening knife was at his thin neck in seconds. Moments before, death was a distant thought bordered by hope. The knife made the possibility all the more real.
The fairy could feel the breath of the man upon him now, the warmth of every exhale upon his face. The knife pressed against his skin like a hammer against an anvil, except the only item being fashioned here was fear and death. As the figure spoke, a shiver shot up the small fairy's spine.
"I give you a choice. I shall send you straight to the Master now and be done with it. Or, you may become a mindless minion of the Blood Lord, obeying my every command."
Death.
If shadows were common place among dwellers of the mortal plain, death was the shadow that hung over them all. In a world where criminals ran freely, plagues wiped out whole villages, and gods sent fire and rattled the earth with their might, death was as common as sleeping and waking. For the first time, the fairy was now within the reasoning of his own end.
It scared him.
He thrashed violently, to no avail. The man's more sturdy body laid against his own, digging the knife deeper into his neck, raising a vial up to collect the dripping liquid. In a frail voice, the fairy pleaded, "Please, don't kill me. I'll do anything you want!" The figure pulled back then, a cruel laugh erupting around him that was joined in chorus by the others.
"Then you have chosen your path. You shall serve me."
Something every one shared in common. No matter your size, shape, or race you had a shadow. However, some were able to become one with the shadows. A true figure of the night, a physical shadow of soul and flesh. To the frail and dazed fairy, his world was full of such things that go bump in the night. The faint light that shone behind him did little to pull back the veil of darkness so that he might place a face to his enemies.
His small hands were braced against the ground by ropes attached to stakes, and his wings were folded back against himself causing quite a discomfort. A figure ripped free from the others, moving towards him quickly. A sharp, glistening knife was at his thin neck in seconds. Moments before, death was a distant thought bordered by hope. The knife made the possibility all the more real.
The fairy could feel the breath of the man upon him now, the warmth of every exhale upon his face. The knife pressed against his skin like a hammer against an anvil, except the only item being fashioned here was fear and death. As the figure spoke, a shiver shot up the small fairy's spine.
"I give you a choice. I shall send you straight to the Master now and be done with it. Or, you may become a mindless minion of the Blood Lord, obeying my every command."
Death.
If shadows were common place among dwellers of the mortal plain, death was the shadow that hung over them all. In a world where criminals ran freely, plagues wiped out whole villages, and gods sent fire and rattled the earth with their might, death was as common as sleeping and waking. For the first time, the fairy was now within the reasoning of his own end.
It scared him.
He thrashed violently, to no avail. The man's more sturdy body laid against his own, digging the knife deeper into his neck, raising a vial up to collect the dripping liquid. In a frail voice, the fairy pleaded, "Please, don't kill me. I'll do anything you want!" The figure pulled back then, a cruel laugh erupting around him that was joined in chorus by the others.
"Then you have chosen your path. You shall serve me."
Re: Hunger
Death did not come quickly.
For what seemed like hours, he had laid there. Silent anticipation, constantly battling a two front war with hope and the desire to live. His wrists no longer struggled against the ropes that bound him. The cynical man had long since left. All that remained now was a figure adorned in red robes, his head bent down towards the ground, sweat dripping freely from his face. The words that were uttered were unintelligible. They ripped free with such ferocity that the figure shook madly, his head moving back and forth in a violent seizure.
A hand lifted upwards, barely visible through the long robes that covered it. An intense heat radiated now about the fairy from his hand, and suddenly a small spark appeared. Curiosity got the better part of him. What was this? The fairy's eyes opened wide, and he felt himself drawing the energy to raise himself from the ground once more. The object removed all notions of fear, or exhaust.
Suddenly, the man's eyes ripped open. Open in the sense of awareness. His lips curled upward in a vicious smile as he took one step closer to the fairy, his rotten teeth showing through his parted lips.
"You'll make a fine servant, indeed."
The man was down upon his knees in seconds, the glowing object tightly grasped in hand. Screams of the tormented filled the fairy's mind, causing him to fall back and dig himself into the ground. A sudden wave of emotions hit him, and tears freely wept from his eyes.
A mere grin met this reaction as the man began to speak more words silently, his eyes rolling back into his head. The man's hand got closer, and he could feel the glowing dark stone sear away the flesh of his chest. He could feel it become one with his body.
And his soul.
For what seemed like hours, he had laid there. Silent anticipation, constantly battling a two front war with hope and the desire to live. His wrists no longer struggled against the ropes that bound him. The cynical man had long since left. All that remained now was a figure adorned in red robes, his head bent down towards the ground, sweat dripping freely from his face. The words that were uttered were unintelligible. They ripped free with such ferocity that the figure shook madly, his head moving back and forth in a violent seizure.
A hand lifted upwards, barely visible through the long robes that covered it. An intense heat radiated now about the fairy from his hand, and suddenly a small spark appeared. Curiosity got the better part of him. What was this? The fairy's eyes opened wide, and he felt himself drawing the energy to raise himself from the ground once more. The object removed all notions of fear, or exhaust.
Suddenly, the man's eyes ripped open. Open in the sense of awareness. His lips curled upward in a vicious smile as he took one step closer to the fairy, his rotten teeth showing through his parted lips.
"You'll make a fine servant, indeed."
The man was down upon his knees in seconds, the glowing object tightly grasped in hand. Screams of the tormented filled the fairy's mind, causing him to fall back and dig himself into the ground. A sudden wave of emotions hit him, and tears freely wept from his eyes.
A mere grin met this reaction as the man began to speak more words silently, his eyes rolling back into his head. The man's hand got closer, and he could feel the glowing dark stone sear away the flesh of his chest. He could feel it become one with his body.
And his soul.